By Paul Rudnick, New Yorker. I am Marie-Celine Dundelle, and I do not need a book contract to reveal that French women are superior in all matters. Our secret lies in an attitude toward life, a point of view that I can only call Frenchy. For example, let us discuss weight loss. The American woman obsesses over every calorie and sit-up, while in France we do not even have a word for fat. If a woman is obese, we simply call her American. Whenever my friend Jeanne-Helene has gained a few pounds, I will say to her, “Jeanne-Helene, you are hiding at least two Americans under your skirt, and your upper arms are looking, how you say, very Ohio.”

To maintain my figure, I eat only half portions of any food, always arranging it on my plate in the shape of a semicolon. For exercise, at least once a day I approach a total stranger and slap him. And late each afternoon I read a paragraph of any work of acclaimed American literary fiction, which makes me vomit.

I like Barney Frank more and more. When he retires, he can perhaps tour the country as a stand-up comedian. Here is his most recent humorous press interview courtesy of the WSJ.

Barney Frank, the witty Democratic congressman from Massachusetts, held forth on a number of topics during an impromptu question-and-answer session with reporters Saturday morning at Davos. Among the more random questions put to the long-serving congressman: Can Bill Clinton—whose Thursday evening talk was one of the conference’s best-attended events—be considered the “Mayor of Davos”? “No,” Mr. Frank replied. “I don’t know what that means.“Instead: “He is the most popular kid in Davos High School.”“He may even go beyond Bono ... He’s got that rock star plus the politico thing.” Mr. Frank was dressed something like a rock star himself, wearing a paisley tie that was wrapped almost completely around the outside of his collar. He had just emerged from a meeting of the world’s leading economic officials, including European Central Bank President Jean-Claude Trichet. Reporters asked him whether Mr. Trichet had expressed worries about inflation. No, he said. They asked again; that began to annoy Mr. Frank. “I am terribly sorry. Look, I understand not giving bad news to journalists is like not giving candy to children. But I apologize I have no bad news to give you.” One reporter would not be dissuaded: There was no discussion of inflation? “That’s the third time you’ve asked me, and you would obviously like me to say there was inflation, and I can’t make it up!”

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